An American in Paris (film)

An American in Paris is a 1951 musical film about a struggling American painter in Paris who is "discovered" by an influential heiress with an interest in more than his art. He in turn falls for a young French girl already engaged to a cabaret singer.

Contents

This is Paris. And I'm an American who lives here. My name Jerry Mulligan. And I'm an ex-GI. In 1945, when the Army told me to find my own job, I stayed on and I'll tell you why. I'm a painter. All my life, that's all I've ever wanted to do. And for a painter, the Mecca of the world for study, for inspiration, and for living is here on this star called Paris. Just look at it. No wonder so many artists have come here and called it home. Brother, if you can't paint in Paris, you'd better give up and marry the boss's daughter. Back home everyone said I didn't have any talent. They might be saying the same thing over here, but it sounds better in French.

It's not a pretty face, I grant you, but underneath its flabby exterior is an enormous lack of character. I like Paris. It's a place where you don't run into old friends, although that's never been one of my problems.

Henri: She was a little girl then. We only became in love after she left.

Adam: She's a little young for you, isn't she kid?

Henri: She has great vitality, joi de vivre, she loves to go out and have fun and dance. She would dance all night...She's an enchanting girl, Adam. Not really beautiful. And yet, she has great beauty.

Jerry: That's, uh, quite a dress you almost have on. What holds it up?

Milo: Modesty.

Jerry: I see it's a formal brawl after all.

Milo: What makes you think that?

Jerry: Well, the more formal the party is, the less you have to wear.

Milo: Oh, no. You're quite wrong. It's most informal.

Jerry: Where is everybody?

Milo: Here.

Jerry: Downstairs?

Milo: No. Here in this room.

Jerry: What about that extra girl?

Milo: Ha, ha. That's me.

Jerry: Ohhh! You mean the party's just you and me.

Milo: That's right.

Jerry: Oh I see. Why that's kind of a little joke, isn't it?

Milo: In a way.

Jerry: You must be out of your mink-lined head. I know I need dough but I don't need it this badly. If you're hard up for companionship, there are guys in town that do this kind of thing for a living. Call one of them.

Milo: I'm simply interested in your work and I want to get to know you better. Now is that such a crime?...I want to help you. I think you have a great deal of talent. Now it doesn't hurt to have somebody rooting for you, does it?

Jerry: What about you? Aren't you sick of The Life and Times of Mulligan?

Lise: I'd rather listen to you. I don't like to talk about myself.

Jerry: Oh, you're going to have to get over that.

Lise: Why?

Jerry: Well, uh, with a binding like you've got, people are going to want to know what's in the book.

Lise: What does that mean?

Jerry: Well, uh, primarily it means you're a very pretty girl.

Lise: I am?

Jerry: Yes, you are.

Lise: How do you know?

Jerry: I, uh, heard it on the radio.

Lise: Making fun of me.

Jerry: Doesn't everybody tell you that?

Lise: I haven't been out with many people. And always friends.

Jerry: Honey, believe me. I'm no enemy...Lise, I don't know whether you're a girl of mystery or just a still water that doesn't run deep, but there's one thing I can tell you. I'd been around sooner, you'd know by now that you're very pretty and I'm not making fun with you.

Henri: [to Jerry] So be happy! You only find the right woman once.

Adam: That many times?

Lise: Oh Jerry. It's so dreadful standing next to you like this, and not having your arms around me.

Jerry: You'll always be standing next to me Lise.

Lise: Maybe not always. Paris has ways of making people forget.

Jerry: Paris? No, not this city. It's too real and too beautiful. It never lets you forget anything. It reaches in and opens you wide, and you stay that way. I know. I came to Paris to study and to paint because Utrillo did, and Lautrec did, and Roualt did. I loved what they created, and I thought something would happen to me, too. Well, it happened all right. Now what have I got left? Paris. Maybe that's enough for some but it isn't for me anymore because the more beautiful everything is, the more it will hurt without you.